01/11/2026
This, and services like it, are so needed. Every “behaviour” has a motivator, and we owe it our animals to find out what’s underneath and if they need help ❤️🐾💚
My dog Harry is twelve years old. To look at him, many people wouldn’t guess it. He is still out for two hours a day, foraging, running, hunting, and playing with an energy that makes people assume he is still just a young dog.
But beneath that outward vitality, Harry is managing real physical shifts. He deals with fascia restriction issues, a heart murmur, dental/teeth pain, and a history of upper GI trouble due to his over active nervous system.
Because of those underlying health pieces, his behaviour has evolved. The excessive barking that we had previously managed with support has ramped up again. He has restless nights where he needs to get up and pace or move around. He is much more needy of my time which can test my patience on days when work is heavy and my schedule is full.
If I didn't know what was happening under the hood, I’ll admit it: many people (including well-meaning or even high-level trainers) might look at him and say they are behaviour issues. They’d prescribe a training plan, management protocols, or a training schedule to "fix" the noise or the restlessness.
It breaks my heart how often people turn to aversive methods or even rigid positive reinforcement when a dog's behaviour doesn't change, simply because we lack a deep, widespread understanding of the physical pain, sensory overload, or internal distress driving the action. So many dogs are handed a training schedule when what they truly need is a carer.
Maybe my perspective is shaped by the twenty years I spent as a carer and rehabilitator for humans. Being a carer is heavy. It takes a massive toll on you physically and emotionally, yet I truly believe it is one of the most tender, sacred roles on earth. Over the years, I've cared for a dying friend, my mother-in-law in her final chapters, and hundreds of others through my work. Their behavior was hard at times. They got restless, vocal, confused, or demanding. Not once did I hand them behaviour-modification program.
Instead, the entire job was about shaping their world to fit them. How could I offer safe, achievable outlets that comforted their minds and bodies? How could I make them feel secure, seen, and deeply supported right where they stood?
Often, what we label a "behavior issue" is actually a caring issue. It is a test of our capacity to look beneath the action and ask: What is this individual trying to communicate? How do I meet them in this exact moment, rather than trying to drag them to where I think they should be?
Harry is aging, yes. But this isn't just about senior dogs. Countless younger dogs who run, play, and look picture-of-health fit are quietly carrying physical, gut, or emotional needs that go completely unnoticed. Not because they are unloved, far from it, but because our mainstream education teaches us to manage symptoms rather than read the whole animal.
This realisation is why I developed the role of the Canine Triage Practitioner, to give people a framework to see the whole, sentient, multi-layered being in front of them. And it’s why I built a course to teach others how to do the same, collaborating with a community of people who want to stop dogs from suffering in silence.
The results speak louder than any obedience drill ever could: happier humans, more comfortable dogs, and a deeper bond.
It isn't an innate skill we’re all born with; it’s a lens we have to be taught to wear. And once you learn to look past the behaviour and see the care it’s asking for, everything changes. It’s rarely our dogs who need fixing, it’s our ability to adapt to them.
This is when we can truly allow our dogs to teach. Our dogs are only great teachers if we undeestand how to listen.
